


Rescue and Ruin

by soulless_puppy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Extremely Dubious Consent, Fuck Or Die, Incest, M/M, POV John Winchester, Porn With Plot, Teen Winchesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-15 09:33:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12318357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulless_puppy/pseuds/soulless_puppy
Summary: John would give anything to save his sons from this violation, but he won’t sacrifice their lives. He’s never played by the rules, anyway.





	Rescue and Ruin

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of gratitude and cookies for Ghostie, who read the first draft and boosted my confidence.
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, it is not intended to justify abuse or predatory behavior.

By the time John finds his boys, he’s too late. They’ve been stripped and infected and strung up by their wrists, ribs jutting out like the corpus of a crucifix, toes barely touching the floor.

Sam’s chest is heaving with the strain of breathing. He blinks slowly when John touches his face with a shaky hand, but there’s no awareness in his eyes, just the curse working its way through him and fogging his pupils.

“I got you Sammy, I got you. Easy now.” John cuts his son down and rests him against the wall. He tries to rub the circulation back into Sam’s wrists and Sam’s only response is a soft whimper of his brother’s name.

Dean’s lips are blue, his skin is cold and mottled with dark bruises. He must have fought back with all he had, or taken on more suffering for his brother’s sake. John is certain he is dead until he feels the faint flutter of a pulse. He cuts Dean down, lays him out on the dirty basement floor and smacks his face lightly, trying to rouse him.

“Dean! Wake up, Dean!” Dean remains unresponsive, and John’s vision blurs with tears. He covers his son’s mouth with his own and breathes for him, then pumps his chest. War flashbacks come suddenly, adding adrenaline to his blood. He blinks the memories away. Tears hit Dean’s cheek just as he sucks in a breath and coughs.

Without the cure, Dean will be dead in minutes and Sam will follow soon after. There’s no one else who can help them, not for miles, and that is John’s fault. He didn’t trust the county sheriff enough to tell him the truth about the assaults and deaths. He didn’t call Caleb in as back up, even though he promised he would. He let Dean and Sam tag along instead, against his better judgement. He thought this hunt would be a piece of cake.

John would give anything to save his sons from this violation, but he won’t sacrifice their lives. He’s never played by the rules, anyway.

“Easy, Dean. Just stay still, I’m gonna help you. I’m gonna fix it.”

John digs through his wallet for a condom and then realizes it’ll defeat the purpose of the act he’s about to do. His hands shake as he pushes Dean’s knees toward his chest. He prays Mary isn’t watching. He prays for forgiveness.

Dean’s eyes open, fogged and confused like his brother’s. John looks away from Dean’s face and pushes apart the cheeks of his ass. Dean’s hole has already been abused, it’s sore and puffy and red. John’s anger flares at the sight and he wants to kill the incubus all over again. Instead, he ducks his head to tongue his son’s hole. It’s the best he can do to lessen the pain he’s about to put Dean through.

John doesn’t have time to do this right - the way he would for Mary on lazy Sunday mornings - but he tries his best to get Dean as slick as he can. When he pulls out his dick, it’s soft and disinterested, and he curses himself while he tries to jack himself hard. He shuts his eyes and conjures up his usual fantasy, a beautiful woman taking his cock into her mouth. He can’t use any thought of Mary to get off, memories of her are too painful.

His dick fattens up reluctantly, but soon he’s hard enough to push inside. Dean makes a soft noise of pain and his body clenches in reaction to the intrusion as John’s cockhead breaches his rim. His body is cold in John’s arms, but inside he’s still warm. He’s still alive. John grunts softly and hates how good it feels to thrust into his son. Such a tight hole, soft as velvet and squeezing his cock.

It’s tough to get a good rhythm going with barely anything to slick the way and the hard floor biting into his knees, but John manages. Dean makes soft little noises of pain with each thrust, but his breathing is already better. John isn’t sure if he’s ever heard  more beautiful sounds than this, his son coming back to the world of the living.

“Stop it,” Sam says weakly from where he’s propped against the wall, and John’s heart breaks. Sam will understand when it’s all said and done.

John nuzzles Dean’s cheek and talks softly in his ear. “Don’t you leave me, kid. Don’t you leave. Sammy needs you. I need you. Don’t leave us.”

Dean shivers. Warmth and color slowly return to his body. He moans and shudders like he’s starting to feel pleasure despite the pain.

“That’s my boy, come on.”

Dean frowns as more awareness comes back to him.  He fumbles with his hands and pushes at John’s chest, trying to push him away. John pins his wrists against the floor and fucks him harder, just as Dean’s eyes begin to clear.

“Dad? Dad, what the - oh,  _ fuck... _ ” He trails off into a moan. John covers Dean’s mouth with his hand, he knows he won’t be able to bear it if Dean begs him to stop.

Dean’s cock twitches between their bellies. His eyes grow wide and soft and guileless. Bottle green, just like his mother’s. He breathes harder and makes wordless pleas. John shushes him quietly and tries to spur himself on toward orgasm. He comes abruptly and bites his lip hard to keep from groaning too loud. He spills his release deep inside of Dean and feels something else leave him too, the life force Dean needs to survive the curse.

John shrinks back from his son a little too quickly, and Dean winces as his hole is emptied. He looks dazed and ruined and his cock is pink and aroused, laying on his thigh. He’s watching John with such betrayal in his expression that John might puke.

To their left, Sam slumps to the floor. John swears and moves toward the boy, nearly tripping as his jeans slide down his thighs. His cock has gone soft and his refractory time isn’t what it used to be, and Sam’s running out of time.

“Let me,” Dean says, trying to get to his feet. “Let me do it. He won’t be so scared if it’s me.”

“No,” John warns, fisting his cock desperately.

“You’re not even hard, Dad. I gotta do it.” Dean stumbles over. He braces himself against the wall.

“Your soul isn’t strong enough yet, it could kill you!”

Dean doesn’t seem to be deterred by his father’s words, he sinks to his knees anyway. John extends his free arm to keep Dean away from his brother, but Dean has different intentions. He pulls John’s hand from his cock and slides it into his mouth.

John lets out a startled noise and goes still, and  _ oh god, _  Dean has done this before, he’s a goddamn pro at sucking cock -

He pulls off with a sloppy noise and glares at John. “You’re not getting hard fast enough. Move out of the way.” He shoves John aside and then kisses his brother.

Dean kisses Sammy again and John looks away; he tucks his cock into his underwear and zips up. He doesn’t realize Dean is talking to him until Dean kicks at him with a dirty bare foot.

“Give me your damn jacket,” Dean growls. “I don’t wanna scrape up his back.”

John complies, and Dean spreads the leather jacket out and lays Sam out on it. With Dean’s back in view, John can see his skin has been scraped raw because John failed to show him the same courtesy. His heart aches with guilt.

“I’m sorry, Sammy,” Dean murmurs, before spitting on his fingers and pushing them into Sam’s hole. Sam whimpers and Dean apologizes again, nuzzling his hair. “I know it hurts, Sammy. I’ll try to go easy on you.”

Dean doesn’t struggle to keep it up, he doesn’t even hesitate. He embraces his brother as a lover and rocks into him with care. John should look away, he knows he should, but he can’t.

Sam mewls soft noises as his brother fucks him, and when the curse begins to recede he holds onto Dean. He digs his nails into the raw skin of Dean’s back, and though Dean hisses with pain he doesn’t make Sam stop, even when he draws blood. Sam’s toes curl and he moans out his brother’s name and John knows he should be disgusted but instead he feels relieved.

John shuts his eyes but he can still hear them, how they breathe and moan, and the soft slap of Dean’s hips thrusting against Sam’s ass. Dean murmurs something low and loving but John doesn’t quite catch it. Then Sam starts begging, but he isn’t begging Dean to stop, he begs for more -  _ more, Dean please, harder, Dean please - _  and then he cries out as he comes and Dean follows soon after and the cure is finished and they are safe.

They kiss, afterward. John hears it and tells himself it’s only because of teenage hormones. He gets up and looks for their clothes, finds them stuffed into a crawl space in the wall, along with the clothes and possessions of the incubus’s other victims. The fly of Sam’s jeans has been torn and ruined, and Dean’s boxers are in shreds. John wishes he could have made the creature suffer more before it died.

When John comes back, the boys are standing and Dean has draped the leather jacket around Sam’s shoulders. They mutter thanks and dress gingerly, keeping their eyes down. John wants to wrap his arms around them and tell them he’s sorry, but he knows he’s too perverse to touch them now. He wants to tell them they shouldn’t be ashamed, but the words are stuck in his throat. He wants to kneel and beg for their forgiveness,but he knows he doesn’t deserve it. He fixes his eyes on a spot on the floor, and then realizes it’s a cumstain.

“Hey, Dad?”

“Yeah, Dean.”

“I’m sorry. The fucker got the drop on me and --”

John sighs. “Don’t. It’s not your fault.”

Dean doesn’t answer, which means he absolutely believes this whole mess is his fault. He slings his arm around Sam protectively and guides him up the stairs and out to the car. John follows. He wonders how long suffering will dog his family’s heels.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feedback of all kinds is appreciated as always.


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